The Crimes of Pettigrew
by smeghead9916
Summary: Sequel to "The Potters" and "The Heir of Slytherin" Harry and Jamie are back at Hogwarts for their 3rd and 5th years. They are hoping for a nice quiet year for once, Jamie even plans to study for his OWLs, but with an escaped madman and soul-sucking monsters swarming the castle this isn't looking likely!
1. Wormtail's Escape

Azkaban was hell. There was simply no other way to describe it. Every day of Peter Pettigrew's life since coming to this hellhole was the same. He'd wake up in his uncomfortable bed in his dank, dark, tiny cell, with the toilet and sink in the corner. He had no cell mate, just like everyone else in the high security wing. High security meant more dementors and more misery.

At least Peter had the option of transforming into his animagus form, a rat, from time to time. When he was a rat the dementors didn't affect him so much.

His only human contact was with the young witch who delivered all his meals to his cell. Her visits were the highlight of his day, even though he never spoke more than a "ta" when she gave him his food. She was a pretty young thing, with long silvery blond hair, sparkling blue eyes and a cheerful face, despite her working conditions.

One day, when she came in to deliver his dinner, she tried as usual to strike up a conversation with him.

"Here you go, I'm about to clock out," she said, waiting a moment to see if he would reply. He did not, she held out her copy of the daily prophet, "I'm finished with this do you want it?"

Peter said nothing, his mouth full of food, he merely nodded.

She placed the newspaper on the bed next to him and turned to walk out.

"See you in the morning," she said, flashing him a quick smile.

And with that she was gone. Peter ate up the rest of his dinner; cabbage soup and a crust of bread; he had grown used to unsatisfying meals in his time here. He picked up the newspaper and peered at the date: April 10th 1993, had it really been more than eleven years since he came here?

He though back to the events that brought him here. It had been the perfect situation, He was the Dark Lord's spy in the Order of the Phoenix, no one would ever have suspected it of pathetic little Wormtail. The Dark Lord had been pleased with him when he told him exactly where he could find the Potter family. He wished to eliminate the baby, Wormtail did not understand why but he was eager to please his master and gladly obliged. He felt nothing for the baby and the older brat irritated him. James and Lily's deaths would be somewhat of a shame, but the Dark Lord would reward him greatly when he returned he was sure, only something went wrong. Not only did James survive, but the two Potter brats as well and his master, the one who would have protected him in the aftermath, was gone. The Aurors soon came after him, he tried to create a diversion so he could transform and escape, killing several muggles on the process, but it did not work. He was hauled away to serve a life sentence in Azkaban without a trial.

If only James and the brats had died…everyone else believed Sirius to be the Potter's secret keeper; Peter could have escaped and Sirius would have been the one locked away in Azkaban.

Peter unfolded the newspaper; his heart skipped a beat when he saw the front page photo. He could have sworn, at first glance, that it was a photograph of James. The he read the headline. HARRY POTTER SAVES HOGWARTS FROM SLYTHERIN'S MONSTER. He read the article, about how it was his _second _time stopping You-Know-Who from returning. Peter threw the paper to the floor infuriated, not only had he killed the Dark Lord in the first place he was actively preventing his return. He was sure that his only way out of his predicament was if the Dark Lord returned to power again.

As the next couple of months went on Peter started conversing a little more with the young witch. He learned that her name was Antonia Malfoy, daughter of prominent Death Eater, Erasmus Malfoy, who had his own cell in the high security wing. Unlike his brother Lucius, Erasmus had not been able to feign being imperiused to escape prison. Antonia always left his dinner delivery until last, so she could chat with him before she clocked off. Eventually, in late June, she made a proposition to him.

"How would you like to get out of here?" she asked.

Peter stared at her, dumfounded.

"Get out of here?" he said, "There is no way out of here."

"Not unless you have help," she replied.

"Why would you help me?" asked Peter, "You know I'm a murderer right?"

"That's exactly why you'd be the perfect fit to help us."

"Us?"

"Me and my brother," she said, "I will help you escape if you agree to help us."

Peter had not idea what she needed help with, but he was willing to do anything to escape this wretched hellhole.

"How can I escape though?" he asked.

"Well, first I need you to transform –"

"What, now?"

"I'm about to clock off, and it's better to do it quick before anyone suspects something," she looked at him impatiently, "well come on, I haven't got all day!"

Peter stood up and transformed into his rat form.

"Now stay still," she said, reaching down to pick him up, "I need to hide you in my pocket, I am going to clock out as normal so no one suspects anything. Stay quiet."

Antonia placed the wriggling Peter into the inside pocket of her robes, and left work in the usual manner.

It was not possible to disapparate off the island, so Antonia and the other human staff would leave on a boat.

"Hurry up Antonia!" came the voice of the old cleaning witch. She and three other people were waiting in a small boat. The boat sailed to shore by itself, and finally Antonia was able to apparate out of there. The dementors had probably already notice Peter was missing and she had no time to lose.

She appeared on a London street in front of a posh four storey townhouse; she rushed up the steps quickly and opened the door without knocking. She stepped into a tastefully decorated house.

"Leon!" she called.

She stepped into the living room and took Peter out of her pocket, placing him on the floor so he could transform back.

"Leon!" she called again.

"For goodness sake, I'm coming!" came Leon's voice, "Is he here?"

"He's in here."

"Excellent," he said walking into the room, "I suppose you're tired after your journey, sit down and warm yourself by the fire, I'll have some refreshments brought in. Cooky!"

A house elf apparated into the room, "yes master Leon?" he asked.

"Bring in some tea and a change of clothes for our guest," said Leon sharply

"As you wish master," said Cooky, before disapparating again.

Cooky reappeared moments later with clean robes and a tray holding a teapot and three teacups.

"Now get started on dinner and be quick about it!" he snapped.

Leon turned to Peter, "Get yourself changed, and help yourself to some tea" he said, motioning for Antonia to leave the room with him "I just need to speak to my sister."

"He's on board?" asked Leon, as soon as they were standing in the entrance hall.

"I haven't filled him in yet," she said, "there was no time. But he agreed to do whatever it takes to get out of there. I don't think there will be a problem."

"There'd better not be," he hissed, "If I'm found out to have anything to do with this it could ruin my reputation!"

"_Your reputation?_" said Antonio, "I'm the one who broke him out, and when I don't go back to work tomorrow –"

"Who said anything about you not going back," said Leon, "If you don't go back that will look suspicious."

"They'll want to question all the staff I'm sure!"

"Then you deny any involvement."

"What if they interrogate me with verituserum?"

"Truth is subjective," said Leon, "You will only say what you believe to be true, and after I have altered your memory, you will believe that you had no involvement with Pettigrew, you will have no idea where he is or what he's up to."

"You can't alter my memory!"

"I can and will, I can't have this coming back to me, I will undo it when the heat is off. In the meantime…" said Leon, lifting his wand and pointing it at his sister, "Obliviate."

Antonia's face went blank for a moment, and then she looked at her surroundings.

"What am I doing here?" she asked.

"You just popped around for a cup of tea," said Leon, "don't you remember?"

"Oh yeah," she giggled, "silly me!"

"It's that place you're working," he said, "those dementors must be doing a number on you."

"No, I can manage a respectable patronus now," she said.

"Perhaps you best get home and have a good night's sleep," said Leon.

"Yes," she paused for a moment and then turned to walk out the front door, "goodnight!"

After Antonia had left, Leon returned to the living room, where Peter was wearing the clean robes and sipping a cup of tea.

"Where's Antonia?" asked Peter.

"She had to go home," said Leon.

At that moment Cooky reappeared, "Master, dinner is ready."

"About time!" he snapped at the elf, he turned back to Peter, "Let's discuss what will happen next over dinner."

Cooky had prepared a magnificent roast dinner; Peter could not remember the last time he ate so well. He gorged on chicken, vegetables, roast potatoes and Yorkshire puddings until he was ready to explode.

"I'm sure you are wondering why we chose to break _you _out of prison?" asked Leon.

Peter, caught off guard, had a mouthful of carrots.

"Don't worry about answering, keep eating," said Leon, "you look like you need it."

Peter, who had at one time had an ample frame, had lost a lot of weight in all his years in Azkaban and was now a mere fraction of what he once was.

"You have a certain skill which will be _very_ helpful to our cause," said Leon, "your ability to transfer into a rat will be most useful. I trust you have been read the newspaper that Antonia left in your cell for you?"

Peter nodded; his mouth full of Yorkshire pudding.

"I will get straight to the point," Leon continued, "there are a number of people who wish to see the return of the Dark Lord. We have reason to believe he is hiding in the forests of Albania. We plan to track him down and help him to return, but first we need to eliminate one small obstacle."

Leon picked up the edition of the Daily Prophet from April, the one with Harry Potter on the front page.

"Twice now, this little brat has thwarted the Dark Lord's attempts to return to full power," he said, "we need you to stop him before we even think about bringing him back!"

Peter swallowed his mouthful of chicken, "Why me?"

"Being able to turn into a rat allows you to move about undetected," said Leon, "It will allow you to sneak up on him and kill him."

"Kill him?"

"Yes Peter," said Leon, "we need you to kill Harry Potter."


	2. Sleepless Nights

James Potter tossed and turned in his bed, sleep had eluded him over the past few nights and when he did manage to get some sleep he kept reliving the horrible night 12 years ago, when Voldemort stormed his home, killed his wife and tried to murder his children. He knew why sleep was evading him, Peter Pettigrew, the man he had once called his friend, the man who betrayed his family, had escaped from Azkaban two weeks ago.

An old school friend of his, Andrew Knox, was an Auror. After being put in charge of the manhunt for Peter Pettigrew he promised to keep him up to date on their progress. They hadn't accomplished much yet.

All of the Azkaban staff had been questioned, not one of them knew anything; not even the last one to see him, a witch who had served him his dinner shortly before he was discovered missing. There had been no sightings so far. The only information they had was what they found when they searched his cell; an edition of The Daily Prophet from a few months ago, printed right after Harry had saved Ginny Weasley. There was a photograph of Harry on the front page. Some of the guards had heard him muttering Harry's name in his sleep.

All of this led to the speculation that Peter was going to try to kill his son. There were now Aurors patrolling the village of Walderley and its surrounding areas, although James was confident he wouldn't know to come looking for them here; there were also Aurors keeping watch on Godric's Hollow and even Little Whinging where the Dursleys lived, just in case he showed up in those places. Despite this James decided not to send Harry and Jamie to stay with their Aunt and Uncle this summer. He was glad of the excuse; he hated sending them there, only doing so because he thought Lily would have wanted them to have contact with her family.

He was glad they hadn't moved into Potter Manor when their home in Godric's Hollow was destroyed. It seemed such an obvious place to be, and probably the first place Pettigrew would think to look; which was why there were Aurors patrolling the area and he had summoned the house elves that maintained the house for their own protection.

He listened to the assurances that Harry would be safe at Hogwarts, but really when had he ever actually been safe there? Between Voldemort attempting to return twice, killer snakes on the loose, three headed dogs and detentions in the forbidden forest (he knew all too well from his school days the sort of creatures that were lurking in the forest) Hogwarts was anything but safe.

James had pondered the idea of not sending them back to school, at least until Wormtail had been recaptured; he knew that was a little drastic and Harry and Jamie would hate it. If only there was a way he could ensure they were safe at school, and Wormtail was not hiding in the grounds.

Of course, the map, how could he be so thick? The map he and his friends had created had been confiscated in the 7th year, but he wasn't a schoolboy anymore and Argus Filch was a reasonable bloke…hopefully. If he got the map back he could easily create a copy for Dumbledore and keep the original himself, he and the other marauders might even be able to get it to sound an alarm if Wormtail set foot or paw in the grounds; he knew the map would recognise him even in his rat form.

"A rat," James thought to himself as he finally drifted off to sleep at around 5, just as the sun was rising, "it seems so fitting for him."

Just as one of the Potter men finally drifted off, another was rising early. Jamie, the eldest of James' two sons, had awoken early. This was rather out of character for him as he always liked to sleep in during the holidays, but this wasn't just any day, this was the 11th of July 1993, his fifteenth birthday. He couldn't help it, on Christmas or birthdays when he knew he was getting presents he always woke earlier than most respectable people did.

He lay back in his bed, peering at the dim sunlight that seeped through the gaps in the curtains. His alarm clock told him that is was only 5:15, yet getting back to sleep was now an impossible feat. He swung his legs out of bed, navigating around the rubbish that littered his bedroom floor, and selected a book to read. He had a large collection of books on magical creatures (including everything from acromantulas to zouwus) which he was very proud of.

His immense interest in creatures had begun 13 years ago today, when his parents had gifted him _A Children's Anthology of Monsters by Newt Scamander_, a pop-up book about, you guessed it, monsters. His favourites were the phoenix and the augury…he was a bird lover. Just weeks later, his little brother, Harry, had been born, when they came to see the new baby, Remus and Sirius had presented him with gifts to celebrate his becoming a big brother. Sirius had given him a stuffed augury, and Remus, who hadn't much money, gave him his own stuffed phoenix from when he was a child. He fell in love with both instantly, he used to run around, his arms outstretch as if he were flying, with the phoenix and augury in each hand.

He still had the phoenix and augury, sitting atop his bookshelf, along with a few others he had accumulated over the years (including a cuddly dragon Lily and James had given him for his 3rd birthday, when you pressed its tummy smoke came out of its nostrils). He still had his book, well thumbed. He pulled it off the shelf and opened it to the first page; there was Lily's handwriting: _Happy 2__nd __Birthday Darling, lots of love Mummy and Daddy xxx_. Jamie wiped a stray tear from his cheek. He wished he could remember her better; the only vivid memory he had of his mother was of when he watched her be murdered right in front of him.

He slid the book back on the shelf, wiping away some more tears. He grabbed a random book from the shelf and went back to bed with it; a book about winged horses.

At some point, Jamie had actually nodded back off; he awoke with the open book over his face, to Harry gently shaking him awake.

"Happy Birthday bro," said Harry, handing him a card and a wrapped present; a new Wizards Chess game, but the pieces were represented by magical creatures rather than people, and a book entitled _Dreadful Denizens of the Deep_.

Jamie enthusiastically opened his new book, "This is brilliant, thanks," he said, "I wonder how many of these are in the lake at school."

"Who cares, it's not like you're going to go looking for them," said Harry, as a mischievous smile formed on Jamie's face, "you're NOT going to go looking for them?!"

"Of course not," said Jamie, still smirking, "where's my breakfast? I'm STARVING!"

"Dad's still asleep," said Harry.

"Well you can go and make me some then," said Jamie, "chop chop, you can't keep the birthday boy waiting!"

"You've never made me breakfast on MY birthday!"

"That's because I'm lazy!"

Sirius and Remus arrived a little while later to find the brothers eating eggs on toast in front of the TV

"Dad's not up yet is he?" asked Sirius

"Mmhmm," mumbled Jamie swallowing mouthful of toast, "The lazy old fart is still sleeping."

"Lay off your dad," said Remus, as Sirius left the room and went upstairs to wake his friend, "things have been very hectic at work for him lately, what with the world cup approaching."

James worked under Ludo Bagman in the Department of Magical Games and Sports, he often found himself dealing with the running of the department as Ludo would often show up to work very late if at all, due to his either being hung-over or just tired from being out until all hours gambling in a chain of seedy little pubs.

Of course James had confided into his friends the real reason he had had trouble sleeping, but as Jamie and Harry only been made aware of the details which had been given to the general public (That Pettigrew had been a supporter of Voldemort and had killed a bunch of muggles), Remus kept this to himself. Remus disagreed with James and thought they should be told everything, but he knew it was James' decision to tell them and not his. As if it were reading his mind, at that moment the muggle news flashed up a picture of Peter and reminded the viewers that he was still at large.

"I still don't get how someone could break out of Azkaban," said Harry, "I thought it was impossible?"

"That's what we always thought," said Remus, "it's supposed be very difficult to get past the dementors, especially without one's wand."

"I've read about dementors before, they're supposed to be awful. I suppose you can't really blame Pettigrew for wanting to escape," said Jamie, who then affixed a look of disgust on his face, "even if WAS a supporter of you-know-who."

"Hey, look who's up!" exclaimed Sirius, dragging James into the room, who looked like a zombie.

"Merlin's Beard," said Remus, "You look like death!"

"I'll be fine," yawned James, collapsing into an armchair, "I just need coffee."

"I'll get it," said Harry, taking his dirty plate with him.

"Jamie, why don't you go and help him?" said Sirius.

"Nah, I'm alright," he said, not taking his eyes off the TV.

"Let me rephrase that," said Sirius, "Piss off for two minutes."

Jamie glared at them for a moment and then stomped off upstairs and slammed his bedroom door.

"What a delightful boy you have there," said Sirius.

"Yes, would you like him?" asked James.

"Cheers but no," said Sirius, "I think I might hex him after a day!"

"In all fairness if someone had snapped at me to piss off on my birthday I'd react the same way," said Remus.

James froze, "What day is it?"

"It's Jamie's birthday," said Remus.

"That's not 'til Sunday," said James.

"It IS Sunday."

"Shit," James leapt out of the chair, "I thought it was Saturday, how could I do such an awful thing?"

"It's not like you actually forgot his birthday Prongs, you just got your days mixed up, you've barely slept lately," said Sirius, reaching into his bag and pulling out a bottle containing a dark purple potion, "start taking this before you go to bed"

"Padfoot, I told you I don't want to be taking a sleeping draught," said James, "I don't want to become dependent on it."

"Prongs, if you don't take it I'm going come over here tonight and physically pour the stuff down your throat!"

"Alright," said James, reluctantly taking the bottle, "just for tonight so I can catch up on my sleep."

"Take it for as long as you need it," said Sirius, "I can brew some more if I need it."

"You're already busy enough doing Moony's potion."

"It's a good thing I actually enjoy brewing potions then isn't it?"

Sirius was an exceedingly good potion-maker. Upon learning of its invention he began brewing the wolfsbane potion for his friend Remus, who was not particularly good at brewing potions himself and could not afford the ingredients. Remus tried to refuse his help, based on the cost of the ingredients, but Sirius was having none of it. Sirius and James, along with Dumbledore's help had been trying for a long time to convince the ministry to make the potion available on prescription, as they knew many werewolves could not afford to brew the potion themselves; like Remus, many had a hard time getting work. Remus had to settle for doing muggle jobs, none of which lasted long because his employers weren't impressed with his having to call in sick every full moon.

"I've been thinking of trying to get Severus sacked," said Sirius, "Muggle Studies has to be the least popular class of them all, I think I'd be a much better Potions master!"

"If you don't want to teach Muggle Studies any more why don't you go for the Defence Job?" said James, taking the coffee that Harry handed to him ("Cheers, you're a gem"), "That's open again, I saw the advertisement in _The Prophet_."

"It's not open anymore," mumbled Remus.

"What was that Moony?" asked Sirius.

"It's not open anymore," said Remus, louder, "I applied."

"And?" said Sirius.

"I met with Dumbledore on Friday, we had a chat," said Remus, "and he hired me there and then."

"So, you're going be at Hogwarts this year?" asked Harry, "Finally, a competent teacher!"

"Excuse me?!" demanded Sirius

"I meant a competent DEFENSE teacher," said Harry, "but while we're on the subject…"

"How dare you!" said Sirius playfully, "Wait until I get you in class."

Harry snorted, "I'm not taking MUGGLE STUDIES, I went to school with muggles for eight years!"

"Oh my God, Prongs," said Sirius clutching his chest, "these kids of yours are breaking my heart."

"If you succeed in getting Snape fired you'll have redeemed yourself," said Harry, "until then I'm not wasting time in Muggle Studies."


End file.
